The Demon Within Her
by HerUnwrittenStories
Summary: Erin Strauss has had enough of Aaron Hotchner's accusations and Derek Morgan's unnecessary questions, and she finally caves in to her demons. -Focusing on Strauss' alcoholism during CM.


_*This piece focuses solely on the alcoholism Erin Strauss suffered from during many seasons of Criminal Minds. I feel strongly about this character and find it intriguing to explore the inner sufferings of one of the show's most complex characters. This has been rated T for sensitive themes regarding alcoholism and hurt. _

_I hope you enjoy. _

_~C_

"I am getting too old for this."

Was all that fell from the older woman's lips as SSA Aaron Hotchner and Agent Morgan left her office, their words causing her to question everything she told herself to believe as her lips tugged downwards into a highly upset frown. How dare they accuse her of wrongly leading a case, and not to mention Agent Morgan's outrageous question of whether or not she had been drinking. 'No offence', he had said, but of course she was offended. She was their Section Chief, and she would not stand for unprofessionalism or unnecessary questions. Once certain they were gone, she was on her feet in an instant and crossed the room, unlocking the door and leaning against it with a heavy sigh as her eyes landed on the framed picture of her son.

'You have three children, but you favour the middle one, your son.'

Hotchner's words rung through her head repeatedly, like a broken record taunting the inner depths of her very soul. She told him he was wrong, but when he left her alone with her thoughts that day, he realised that there was truth in his words. Yet her stubborn head refused to allow him to affect her in such a way, and she told herself repeatedly that he was wrong: she had no favourites.

With her back pressed against the door, she reached upwards to close the blinds covering the glass panel so that no one passing could peek in and see her, as she sank further and further down onto the carpet, her skirt crumpling and her tights ripping as they caught onto her heel. She was slowly but surely spiralling out of control, and she could no longer deny that fact or hide it. She dropped her head back against the wall as she sat there, in a heap of her own limbs and clothes, her normally pinned back and neat hair dishevelled around her shoulders as her head lolled around uselessly. Tears stung her eyes, and the iron woman finally allowed them to fall as her nails gripped the carpet with a deathly hold and her heels dug into her calves. What was she doing? Even she couldn't answer that. Hotch and Morgan were right; she abandoned the protocol she so highly respected and almost sabotaged their case…all for a taste of alcohol. Her heart fluttered at the thought of the beverage, and the craving began so suddenly, just as it always did when she allowed her mind to slip into darker thoughts. When she was alone, with no one but herself to look after her, and when her demons took over and her professionalism was overcome by her desire to drink to numb the pain.

Too exhausted to stand up, Erin pathetically threw herself onto all fours, half crawling, half staggering towards her desk where her stash was safely hidden and waiting. Why should she stop now? She deserved it…and she needed it. God, she needed it. Gripping the edge of the desk, the woman pulled herself up onto her chair as she slouched back against the cushion, hands trembling as they wavered over the handle of the middle drawer. Three drawers…the middle contained what she needed. Was that a conscious choice? Middle son and middle drawer?

"He doesn't know a thing about you." She muttered to herself, almost bitterly, pushing away Hotchner's words that still clouded her sub conscious mind, as she yanked the drawer open with a forceful tug. There it was. Waiting for her. Taunting her. Tainting her. Killing her. Yet still she listened as it called to her, and with both hands she took the bottle of vodka and clung to it as though her very life depended on it. Blue eyes darted over to the door, checking it was locked and the blinds obscured her office, before her nimble fingers unscrewed the lid and carelessly dropped it onto the cream carpet along with the last of her self control. With visibly shaking hands, she brought the devil to her lips and took a large, satisfying yet sinful gulp as a shiver ran down her spine and her mind instantly cleared of all worries. She finally felt relaxed, and her postured showed just that as her tense shoulders dropped and her furrowed eyebrows loosened as she drank.

She continued to down the bottle for perhaps an hour or so, and the effects of the alcohol had plagued her body as quickly as they always did, rendering the older woman completely vulnerable to its plan. Aaron Hotchner was nothing but a figment of her imagination now, and his words meant nothing to her as she staggered and swayed across the room towards the coat hanger in the corner. A devious smirk was on her lips as she smoothed down her blouse and skirt, finding her shoes once again and hid her bottle of vodka in the depths of her smart jacket that she shrugged on minutes ago. No, he meant nothing, nor did his accusations.

Erin Strauss was still the Section Chief, and no one would dare tear her from her position - the bureau needed her too much to let her go, and they would never find an immaculate replacement.


End file.
